Wildflower and Other Poems

By Monique de Koning

Wildflower

Trees lush with cherry blossoms caught
in the corner of my eye, overlooking a meadow
of mesmerizing shades as far as skies reach:
the artist's selection, chosen to attract
butterflies and honeybees gathering from afar
to attend this season's feast, hosted by Mother Nature.
Grass joyously engaged in a silent dance charmed
with fresh elegance, waving its blades in unison.

I wonder if it's me they see, inviting me to join
this unexpected beauty crowning the belly of a beast.
Its echoing rage in the distance, a chilling memory below
rocky layers separating darkness from the light,
once dedicated partners in time.

I wake up to the taste of honey, a sweet glow on my cheeks
left by the sun in its loving caress – an endless moment
of universal bliss. Was it just fantasy or a heartening vision
featuring my future reality? Maybe there is no difference:
maybe our life is only a materialized, conscious dream.

Quiet Flow

When the tail points forward
a touch of confusion, or
is facing the front going back?

How to tell the difference,
the truth of a direction:
aligned though not quite,
a different note to strike
that symbiotic balance?

An illusion of opposites
when they, in fact, complement,
like poles of a battery:
in still perfection, allowing
the flow of a current,
tides that harmonize – the

emergence of our young
a presence of understanding.

Cutting Edges

I'm not broken. The cracks
of the reassembled pieces
formerly known as me, each part,
merely a reminder – a contemplation
of who I thought I'd become
or once was: a work in progress.
The reality I used to live
never who I was meant
to be: myself,
the key to a mystery
of who I will have been,
or made into: a was
that never comes.

Human Fashion

I am a woman of celestial design, in this lifetime's season
dressed in skin sensitive to the sun but, like any, soft and warm,
made to be touched – well-suited for exchanging hugs, accessorized
with a generous smile. My mind in humble, supportive service
to my intuitive, embellished heart: rich glints of compassion tied to
a keen playfulness, never out of style. Together, they pursue balance
between sense and reason in their search for truth: a source of common sense
that wishes to learn and grow. Commonly in a stubborn mood
for glasses too rosy to some, adding a rising sun's glow: our innate warmth
so often lacking. Shaped – coated with a no-nonsense filter – to see differences,
though in a positively glowing light: highlighting the fine qualities
of our individual essence and tastes that should be celebrated, none used
as a weapon to divide. I am thrilled we're not the same since it enriches our world
in such vibrant fashion. Similar to the classics wildlife and nature: the
reason humankind, ever since its earliest history, continues to explore
the wondrous gifts our planet so selflessly offers. When our distinct,
uniquely talented personalities work together in free honesty
with respect for all, we create a transcendent cape of
multidimensional light – transforming humanity into its own superhero.

Colorful Dishes

My truth may not be your reality while
yours doesn't have to be mine – and although
much of neither may ever become the
best of friends or relate at all, fragments
will overlap with common ground to find.

The rest still has meaning and is important,
if only for you – a source of ideas for another to see
or maybe contemplate if there's something to take
to the collage of truths we naturally compile
in our lifetime: evolving, merging, or separating from
us at some point; like someone we feel closely connected to
at one stage in life yet worlds apart in another.
Any belief we hold hangs in the balance of ingredients
to a recipe of truth, adding flavor to a bigger one.

Like an archeologist, physicist, nurse,
anthropologist, farmer, interpreter of satellite images,
a reverend, housekeeper and psychic, biologist,
workers in logistics or philosophers, we all
have something to bring to a table of colorful dishes
for a shared meal that serves a better understanding
of our world, merely prepared in very different kitchens
from personal cravings. No matter how far apart our
tastes or views may seem or be, each an integral part
of the lock to a golden key with the ability to solve
the puzzling dish of life and the answers we seek.

Joy of Elegance

New neighbors arrived some time ago,
an adorable family of five. Unfamiliar with the area
often seen exploring, the Swanson's residence
a modest waterside space just outside. Quiet and polite,
much to themselves, they appear friendly; their twins
and a third growing up crazy fast. Curious as they are
when spotted on their missions, their approach cautious;
perhaps not to come across cheeky – which would be unfitting
to their graceful reputation. Known to be short-lived
I savor their presence until the night of their dawn, disappearing
into unknown territories, one day to be replaced by
a newly nested family of well-behaved swans.

A Spider to the Sun

Tiny drops on a spider's web outside a cave, one by one caught
by blushing rays of our sun, slowly vanish inside its warm embrace.
Welcomed by a python near the entrance, her endless body
protectively wrapped around her young. Touched by this vision
through a highly advanced lens light-years away, a future ancestor
launches to explore this legendary blue orb. Each passing sun
reminiscent of the spider – planets, like dew, lounging
on the threads of our universal fabric. The earthly web
a small universe in itself: our cosmos an extraordinary display
of recurring and golden ratio manifestations.

My Geographical Heart

A midsummer gale of foreign words
struggling to understand, fresh exotic tastes;
whimsical streets dipped in architectural genius
while obnoxious urban noises rudely overtake
the melodious sounds from optimistic souls, shrouded
in the pungent smell of raw sewage. Still,
my heart breaks as the streets of this quaint old town
enwrap me like the world's coziest blanket.

Not for its peaceful tranquility as there is none;
it's the laughter, the organized chaos, unpolished fun
and meaningful chatter: the welcoming, uplifting charm
of a vibrant culture – its diversity in all directions.
A resonating energy beyond the limited scope
of any language and despite its shadow-filled past
reminiscent of my own: in all ways determined
to be alive, where I seem to belong.

In sharp contrast to my sensible native land:
despite its various lovely people, always an alien
even when in no aspect really out of place.
Home to me is where we feel who we really are
in all our unique, visible and non-visible weirdness
without condition: appreciated and free.

Jackied

A fluffy tail graciously cascades over the edge:
queen of the chair – her keen eyes instantly supersized
to chase something outdoors. Easily distracted,
the object of interest now a classified game overtaking the room;
an alarming pitch echoes. Briefly knocking the beat from our hearts
to soon melt, once more, by the endearing charm
of this little log of fur. Precious but naughty, a sea lion's stance,
her attention span too short to follow until suddenly
she lands: for a peaceful take-over of an unsuspecting arm,
with lap. Emanating her grace and loving essence for
a delightful moment of peace before she, once again,
catapults her youthful cuteness all over the place.

My Day in the Sun

Waves of a midsummer's heat
a silent invitation to travel south: a
colorful summer hive buzzing
from aliveness, dancing to the rhythm
of an ocean's heartbeat.

Traveling with varied strangers:
momentary friends who offer warmth,
pleasure or their kind assistance
when lost or stuck across various 
obstacles along the way. To arrive
at this vibrant place – so unwelcoming to
my wheels of motion – where I love to be,
almost 2222 days from last.

Not just another time: reality currently
worlds apart in many regards since – its
youthful innocence a distant memory,
matured into an enriched version of itself.
Like I have: never the same for the agony
of a brutal past, in fact, so much better for it.

A missed bus, three musketeers at № 13
and a toast of wine the unexpected finale
to an exceptional day. To not just be
part of the world once again, but in such
surprisingly delightful ways.
With a gratitude-filled heart, laughter
still echoing my mind, I patiently accept
another unexpected detour: the
vastly longer alternative road home
into the late hours of a moonlit night.

Still rising from the ashes of quite an unconventional life, Monique de Koning doesn’t have certain credentials or acknowledgments, yet. Something describes this self-taught artist well though: she is a very determined Dutch(wo)man with a curious mind who has always loved to create. Writing her first poem a few years ago, inspired by an unusual, life-changing connection, evolved into an unexpected but welcome new way to express her creativity and voice